


A Butterfly Flaps its Wings... and I am Misplaced (Year 1)

by TheSistersBread



Series: A Butterfly Flaps its Wings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aromantic, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Forgiveness, Harry Potter Deserves Better, Horcruxes, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Luna has burdens, Rebirth, Reincarnation, but likes to stay in her mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSistersBread/pseuds/TheSistersBread
Summary: Sequel to ABFiWaIaM (Pre-Hogwarts)Luna's not really sure she wants to go to Hogwarts. Her first year's already off to a good start!
Series: A Butterfly Flaps its Wings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068551
Kudos: 27





	1. Conclusion

**Hogwarts**

I didn't want to go to Hogwarts.

I really didn't. Said school was a deathtrap. Magic really did seem to chase away common sense.

I was not looking forward to the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' fiasco. Over time, my feeling towards Ginerva Weasley had cooled and once I had been given an overdue apology (and given one for being so... unstable), I hoped we might be able to be friends again. I had missed her blunt way of phrasing things and the way she managed to ground me.

I had long since learned to do it for myself but sometimes it was nice to let someone else help.

But my detachment from her had given me time to properly grieve. I felt my emotions so strongly, all the time, that sometimes I shut them out so I could function normally. It was more healthy than unhealthy, yes, it stopped me getting overwhelmed but that didn't mean it was healthy.

I had spent too long falling back on cold logic. I now realised that I had gone too far in my quest to balance my emotions and had gone overboard.

My true solitude - Father hovered less these days: I was older - had allowed me to reflect on what I wanted to happen next and what would. I was by no means emotionally balanced but I was managing so much better than before. Isn't that what humans do? Manage?

Well, I was kind of wrong there. 

Perhaps overall but you couldn't really take a mean of human life so...

I distracted myself by staring at the cloud in the sky. It looked simultaneously like a dragon, a house and a man. What was I saying again? Balance, me- I'd lost it.

At least the clouds were nice to look at - they made such interesting shapes!

I spent the rest of that afternoon, staring at the clouds.

Head lost in the clouds.

Who me? I don't know what you're talking about. Oh, look a sprite! Or was it a fir tree...

* * *

**Letters**

The day my Hogwarts letter arrived was a somber one.

I liked it here and though I could not live without change, I got plenty of it and I felt comfortable. At the very least, I could make conversation with my Father. I even felt settled enough to call him 'Dad' to his face. The man was never going to know that I wasn't Luna (unless I told him and even if I did, why would he believe me?).

It would even be alright at Hogwarts (people would think I was mad) so if I let slip that I'd been reincarnated, they wouldn't bat an eyelash. I didn't appreciate being ridiculed but it would keep my secret safe so it would be alright. Better than being dragged off to a mental hospital at least.

That wouldn't be pleasant.

I’d heard all sorts of horror stories and as perception of mental health had generally moved forward in my original time, it was likely to be worse here.

As it was, I was surprised that no one seemed to go to a therapist but there was a pretty big time skip and I’d already come to the conclusion that there weren’t any in the magical world.

So, no thanks, I wasn't being dragged of to anywhere. I suppose I could be taken to the Department of Mysteries but literally no one knew what went on there. If I was going to be interrogated anywhere, though, it would be there. To be fair, they might decide to recruit me instead. I knew next to nothing about Unspeakables except Augustus Rookwood (follower of the Dark Lord) was one.

I might have tried to send a letter in warning but he'd easily trace it back to me and I was kind of attached to my life, thanks. Dying once had been more than enough. I didn't want to die in this body - unless it was of old age.

I wouldn't mind that. A nap that lasted forever.

Anyway, even if I tried to reveal Rookwood's allegiance, I would be digging my own grave and even I wasn't that stupid. The more I thought over it, the more holes I found. I needed to somehow prove he was a Death Eater without incriminating myself or outing him to someone who'd help him out. How did I know there weren't more people who supported Voldemort in the Ministry? 

I hadn't even realised how much it scared me until I started crying. 

What was it with me and tears?

At least I had a good reason. I was contemplating my nasty, very likely, gruesome murder. With a bit of tor- Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it...

If that actually worked, I would probably be one of the happiest people on the planet.

Trying my very best to drown out the image, I hastily wiped my tears away. My father had been more present in recent years and he would undoubtedly notice my tears. While this was inconvenient for me, I was ecstatic that he was a bit more grounded. If the original Luna ever got this body back, it would be better for her to have an attentive parent. I had tried so many different ways to save Mother but it was all for vain. I think I simply succeeded in delaying her fate. While it chafed me to think of the event in such a way, it had been a pivotal learning experience. 

It helped to think so logically about the event. It was my coping mechanism, I suppose.

Mother's death had taught me that while I couldn't prevent what was to come, I could derail it.

My frequent correspondence with Harry Potter supported that hypothesis.

I had finally found some sort of solution. While my blood still boiled whenever I thought of the Dursleys, I didn't have enough faith in the system to whole-heartedly convince Harry to rat them out. If he ran away though, Dumbledore would probably find him and dump him back there.

The Headmaster had always stuck me as a little manipulative and he had the 'I know best' mentality that never failed to get on my nerves. A good ally and a dangerous enemy. I preferred to just not get involved with him. Nothing would get Dumbledore faster on my case than kidnapping Harry.

I wasn't sure if Harry running away would make him actually check out the Dursleys and what Harry’s life was truly like. Harry had decided to simply stay there. With the discovery of magic, his life had suddenly gotten a lot smoother. He particularly enjoyed the fact that he was no longer getting kicked around like a football.

If he was manipulating Dudley into forgetting about him and playing with his 'friends' instead, well, I wasn't going to say anything.

* * *

**Twins**

That idiot!

To be fair, it wasn't completely his fault but still...

I suppose I could blame it on his relationship with Murphy's law. I was still mad though. How had he not only attracted the attention of a fanatic house elf and got himself locked up? Bars on his windows, really? What an... even with my extensive vocabulary, I couldn't quite find a word.

I sighed. 

Yelling at Harry wasn't going to do anything. I needed to figure out how bail him out before he got a stupid idea like - oh I don't know, getting expelled for performing underage magic for the second time! Or god forbid, running away somewhere. How about not getting broken out by some redheads?

Oops.

Harry was currently sitting in the Rookery's living room, looking suitably chastised. I found I didn't have the energy to scream at him any longer so I decided to just go for a tackle hug. I didn't quite manage to knock him over, the floor was hard so I decided it was best not to push him too hard.

The twins stood there somewhat awkwardly.

Maybe they'd come along as some sort of 'if she murders you, we'll bury your body' friends. 

The twins were a point I wasn't sure about either. Their role models were The Marauders. Whatever else the Marauders were, they had been bullies. After heard some truly horrifying stories about their antics as children, I decided that I wanted no part in their 'mischief'. Seeing as I clearly couldn't fly under their radar, they were Harry's only friends, I was going to settle for being the 'What the hell are you doing?' figure.

Fun wasn't fun when they were traumatising people.

Now, I wasn't good when it came to knocking some sense into people so I needed to find a better way to make them realise what they were doing. I didn't think the twins were that bad, really, but they didn't seem to realise that there was a fine line between pranks and bullying. I blamed magic. Most children simply didn't have the maturity to realise what a powerful weapon they were holding.

Yes, I realised how... interfering... that sounded but my bleeding heart could never watch them doing such cruel pranks and not saying anything. I also realised that my opinion was a bit controversial but the way I saw it, the twins were lighthearted pranksters that ended up harming people.

I really hoped they proved me right on that.

* * *

**Dinner**

Apart from thoroughly enjoying time spent with my only friend, not much else happened during that summer.

Actually, that was a lie.

I ended up running into Ginny quite a few times. Harry was staying at the Weasleys but as his pen-pal, I ended up getting visited quite a lot. I was getting over it.

Until he dragged me to dinner at the Burrow.

I had several problems with this.

1\. More than three people who weren't on my 'family' list absolutely terrified me. (Currently that list only had my Father on it and he wasn't coming.)

2\. I had to face Ginny.

3\. I did not want to be pranked (I remembered earth worms in Bill's soup and I was still vegetarian. The twins might find it funny but I didn't. To me, it was cruel not to respect my choices and dupe me. They hadn't done it yet but I was apprehensive.)

4\. The most important reason: I didn't want to.

I ended up going anyway. I was just gathering the courage to resist Harry's pleading when my Father told me to go. With him on board, Harry managed to drag me off.

It didn't go... as badly as expected.

There was a bit of blushing when all the Weasleys swung around to see their newest guest. I briefly wished I could just hide in a convenient cranny but alas it wasn't to be. Instead I had to cling to Harry without it seeming like I was clinging to him. It sounded as hard as it was. Molly Weasley cooed over me and thankfully didn't mention my tense relationship with her only daughter.

I was immensely thankful.

That would have made it so awkward. I mean, it was already awkward but it would have been even worse.

I ended up sitting between Harry and Charlie. It was an interesting combination and I particularly enjoyed hearing the redhead’s dragon tales. What really endeared him to me though was the fact that he listened to my enthusiastic tales about the hunts I went on with my father. 

At this point, Arthur Weasley joined our conversation, intrigued by the Muggle (still hadn’t found a suitable alternative with no negative connotations) technology we used. 

I may not have been obsessed with my phone in my previous life but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to operate it. I just had to be a bit careful and use metal. From what I understood, magic was sort of like electricity but instead of being conducted well by metal, it transferred best through conducts, like wood. It was fundamentally the same as electricity.

Of course, I didn’t have enough time to fully explain electricity to Mr. Weasley. The man was a quick and dedicated learner but his sources were clearly outdated. He was meant to be the foremost authority on Muggles but he hadn’t even heard of a plane let alone a rocket. He still seemed to think that Muggles rode around in horse carriages. Some might but really cars were so much more common than he thought.

At least he was trying.


	2. Journey

**Musing**

I hated being late. I loathed it with a passion and that was why I was on the platform at ten. Ever since I’d missed a boat as a child in my previous incarnation, I couldn’t stand being late. Very rarely did I ever leave behind my trusty watch.

It seemed so inconsequential, such a pathetic reason but it soothed me to do so, so why should I not wear one? The only downside was that my left-handedness had carried on to this life and that was where I wore my watch. It was so inconvenient at times.

Speaking of writing, I had persuaded my Father to buy me a refill fountain pen - I was not using a quill. No thank you.

Just to make sure no one had any problems, I found the stoutest feather I could and hid the cartridge in it, making sure the metal tip only protruded slightly. My only problem had been what to do about the lid but my father had somehow made it look feather-like so no problems there. I really didn't know how he'd managed it though.

Apart from avoiding trouble with the teachers though, there was an additional benefit to using my embedded fountain pen. Magic seemed to conduct best through natural materials so writing with a quill essentially gave the work a person's magical signature. Not many knew that though, simply choosing to believe that it was tradition.

While I absolutely detested the fact that people used tradition as an excuse for things (just because it was a tradition, it did mean it was right.), it sort of made sense - teachers would know whether the student had written it themselves or not. Maybe it had simply been forgotten or maybe it was a secret fail safe but now, charms tended to be used for that purpose.

Of course, there were always blood quills but they hurt, were illegal (except for in contracts with goblins) and no one wanted to pass out from blood loss. If I ever got my hands on one, I would be eager to study the spells on it as no one except for the ones who cast them knew precisely what they were or how they worked.

I had no idea how I'd even gotten on to blood quills. Perhaps it had been the red of the steam train in front of me or simply me wondering what the different types of quills were but, as I sharply reminded myself, my once fantastical dreams of people reading my mind had come to fruition. I had to be even more paranoid - without showing that I was.

I was not looking forward to it.

I had entertained the notion of learning Occlumency but I was simply too lazy to do so. My excuses were perfectly logical but I knew deep down that that was all they were - logical. True I didn't have a teacher but I did have some books. The Lovegood family were odd by Wizarding (or rather most) standards but like other Pureblood families, we had quite an extensive library. This was not at all helped by the fascination with books and knowledge the family held. 

That wasn't to say every member had them or they were defining Lovegood traits but it was common to enjoy learning.

I was no exception to the stereotype. I may be lazy and not enjoy tests or studying but I loved learning. I knew so many pointless facts that at one point, my friends had told me to 'go write a book or something' with them. 

Before I could miss the train because I was getting so caught up in my own thoughts, I (with the help of my father) heaved my trunk onboard. I did have a reason for it. Well two actually.

One, every little helps when you're trying to stay fit.

Two, I'd pleaded with my Father to imbue some sort of Magic-absorbing ward or charm on it.

I was not going to repeat the experiences of the previous Luna if I didn't have to. I'd also bought a Muggle lock with the same runes engrave on it. The only thing that would open said trunk was my key. It could still be stolen but at least I'd be on better standing than otherwise. I didn't like fighting people so if I would avoid it if I could. I also didn't really want to be hexed. While other Purebloods or Halfbloods might treat it as a spot of fun, I had lived a life as a Muggle and sometimes it took me a while to remember that my injuries could be healed quickly.

Absentmindedly, I let my gaze wander.

In my previous life, I had reigned in my mannerisms until people knew me better. It was hard to come across as a 'nice' or 'helpful' person when my resting face looked like I was annoyed or displeased. My tendency to find a spot and stay looking at it made many think I was staring at them. In truth, I was terrible at staring contests because I didn't like control. Well - not such obvious control anyway.

I suppose it made for a good defence mechanism though.

I wasn't one for confrontation. That didn't mean I didn't have a hot temper - as my father could attest to. Most people were under the impression that my bark was worst than my bite. They would be right. While it sounded incredibly callous and manipulative, I was excellent at gentle nudges. It was sort of symbiosis though because I would defend my friends to the death and in turn, they looked after me.

I found myself thinking that we were all just using each other. 

It wasn't good, it wasn't bad.

The problem was that thoughts like this made me doubt what I was doing, what the world was doing (global warming!!!) and of course all the things I'd like to do but couldn't.

Anyway, back to defence mechanisms. Thinking about it, I could freely admit brute force wasn't my strength. My power laid in emotions. Sometimes, I felt like I was toying with people because I always understood their emotions. It was so easy to influence people when you understood why. My impressive grasp of logic helped to.

I was such a bad - actually, manipulative person. That didn't have to be a bad thing though. There was a saying that had stuck with me through the years (many sayings actually) - that it was not the blade that was good or evil, it was the wielder who chose. In my defence, I only ever tried to prevent people getting hurt (but not myself).

Either way, I knew one thing and that was that I wouldn't let anyone hurt the people I loved. Of course I knew they'd be hurt anyway - probably by my own hand more than anyone else's but I was determined to try.

* * *

**Forgetfulness**

At the last minute, I saw the Weasleys rushing through the barrier. As the children leapt onto the train, I saw Mr and Mrs Weasley Apparate away hurriedly. I wasn't sure where they were going in such a rush - perhaps Mr Weasley had some errands to run before he returned to work and Mrs Weasley had left something cooking? But they had gone together so-

Wait a minute.

-maybe the second option or maybe-

Where was Harry?

I didn't care where the adults had gone unless it was to fetch him!

How could I have forgotten? I was such a stupid, little-

Leave the self-deprecating thoughts for later. What could I do?

My mind whirled wildly. 

Aren't you supposed to be clever? I - not now.

I had to think of a solution. I didn't have an owl - would be too slow anyway. No house elves to help out until later this year. How was Harry going to get himself out of this mess? He was stranded, alone, I had counted and while he was better than in the original timeline, he was still a reckless idiot. I got that flying a magical car would be absolutely brilliant (I was totally an adrenaline seeker) but he had no idea how to drive! 

How could he with those pathetic excuses of human beings he had been left with? All three of them needed psychologists. (I refused to believe there was no point. I wasn't naive enough - anymore - to think they could certainly be saved but I hoped so. I still wanted my pound of flesh, though. However, Harry got to go first. It was only right.)

Anyway, focusing on the task at hand: as a Centennial, my instinct was to use a phone but neither of us had one. Also, I still hadn't gotten around the problem of technology and magic.

No two way mirrors, no owls, no phones, no communication -

Casting a look over my shoulder, I realised we were only a short distance from the platform. 

Plan 1 was bust. I wrote a note and threw it right through the barrier. I really like paper aeroplanes. However, the train turned and I couldn't see if it had gone through.

Plan 2 go find a Prefect (preferably Hufflepuff) and sob my eyes out.

As it was, this proved impossible as the Prefects were in a room that I literally couldn't enter. In the end, I returned dejectedly to my carriage, hoped that Harry had gotten my note about the Knight Bus and closed my eyes.

Friends. Couldn't live with them, couldn't live without them.

I should have known what I was getting into when I befriended him.

To take my mind off matters, I focused on what I had learned from the books about this year.

* * *

**Possibility**

Of course, that was when I realised that Ginn-Giner-Ginny Weasley was sitting across from me. 

'The wise forgive but do not forget' I reminded myself.

Slowly, tentatively, I smiled. I didn't know if the girl had missed me but I missed her. No one deserved to suffer like she would not if I had any say in it. Even if I couldn't stop the possession, I would not let her suffer alone. Maybe Ginny Weasley had torn out my heart and stamped on it, maybe it was partly my fault. Maybe it was no one's fault. But I was going to be there for her.

After all, it was only fair to return the favour, wasn't it?

Like a flash of lightning, she smiled back. It wasn't slow, it wasn't joyful. It was delicately pieced together but so hopeful that I felt my heart constrict. Damn Ginny Weasley and her smile. How was I supposed to fight against that?

I chose not to even bother.

Maybe she was going to do it again, maybe she wasn't going to but I had enough space in my bleeding heart for that. Why was I such a doormat? At least doormats were durable and entirely more resilient than anyone gave them credit for.

I didn't know if Ginny had missed me too but she seemed willing enough to draw me into conversation. I might ramble until the sun rose but I dared anyone to tell me I wasn't a good listener. I'd like to think she did miss me but I was worried I was reading too much into her actions. Maybe she had approached me because I was old, familiar to her. Perhaps it offered her some comfort.

As I was drawing the exact same comfort from her, I could hardly complain. 

Ever the idealist, the optimist, I hoped we would be able to regain the sort of bond that two lonely, little girls form but I wasn't sure it was going to happen.

I did hope so though.

I knew it was extremely unlikely. We were going to be in different houses (probably) and I had only kept one friend for my entire life in my previous incarnation.

Last time I was this age, I had four friends that I started to drift away from. Then, one left and I discovered another was talking about me behind her back. I had never mustered the courage to confront them about it. Every time I tried, I was just... tired.

I felt the same way with Ginny.

But I knew why. Maybe I could move on this time. The moral of the story was that friendships disintegrated, broke, dissolved. I hoped, I wished but I could never know. Life was not a fairytale (I didn't even think Harry Potter was one but that was up for debate if I decided to revisit it.) and I might not get a happy ending. I hadn't really thought about the actual danger.

I was going to put that line of thinking on the back burner. I had other things to worry about. Like changing into robes.


	3. Sorting

**Restless**

I was strangely more excited about the Sorting than I had anticipated. Logically, I knew that it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things but when had my emotions ever followed my thoughts? I was capable of being objective and completely logical but I simply didn't want to be. So I wasn't. I had never even entertained the notion of trying to make more sense. It was only natural for other people to be confused by me - I had never existed in any other way. I didn't completely understand myself so why would people who never saw all of me understand? I saw the most of myself and I even I never saw all.

I was getting a bit philosophical, wasn't I?

And?

Good point. Rebooting deep thoughts 1 2 3...

I simply couldn't go back. I'd just shot myself in the foot! Why did I have to ruin the mood? I was actually starting to feel wise. Now, I couldn't stop thinking about the lack of progress in the Wizarding World. How did I even get there? I think it had to do with reboot sounding like robot then AI and how exciting the progression had been and then a somewhat offhanded comment in my head - honestly - about the wonderful progress and of course I could never enjoy my happy thoughts without going back to something negative, could I? Then my frustration at the sheer stupidness of never evolving on the part of the Wizarding World.

I even had a logical argument. Me, logic! Of course, the annoyance came first but then I couldn't help thinking (feeling) that the people in charge might feel frightened because of common sense that my friend had always said I lacked. I bet if she was here, she'd admit that even I possessed some... or maybe they were blocked by those who saw progress as being 'Muggle': I sort of understood their aversion - people were being burned at the stake but times had moved on and they hadn't. It was kind of counterproductive though because it meant they were stuck in the past and they really stood out in the 'Muggle' world. If it ever came to a war, let's not kid ourselves, the Muggles (still searching for a word that does not imply lack of something, any suggestions? Who was I even asking? Who'd bother watching or reading about my life? Hello, I got reincarnated, I don't really want to die because of the Death Eaters, is this a nightmare or dream. Someone's grumpy today. I prefer to call it sarcastic. My sense of humour - don't smile, Ginny will find it weird, was keeping me sane, stop it!, well as sane as possible. Where was I? Why did you smile idiot!)

"There aren't many Wrackspurts around." I smiled dazedly (hopefully) at Ginny in explanation.

It took a great amount of my non-existent self-control not to laugh. I ended up smiling for five minutes instead.

But, where was I? Why did I always get lost in my brain? It was meant to be mine, to make - absolutely no sense. And I loved it.

Ok, I was whining about lack of progress, how 'Magical' people stood out and about how Muggles would: ahh, absolutely annihilate us. Why was I thinking so calmly? There were too many people playing chess at once without counting the discord in the 'Muggle' world too. What was I going to do? Why did the world have to be so full of hate... Stop before you start crying in front of Ginny who you already mentioned Wrackspurts to. Why did I say that? Now it's just going to be worse. Don't cry Luna! Ok, take a minute. I don't have a minute! What the hell am I going to do? And here I thought I was dealing well...

"Luna?"

I snapped my neck towards Ginny rapidly. She un/knowingly (I just wasn't sure) gave me a confused look.

I offered her a medium smile. She'd done nothing so far... except turning her back on you and... Remember the quote. Which quote? The quote. Oh (I did not feel like one person in that moment): 'The naive forget and forgive. The fool does not forget and not forgive. The wise forgive but do not forget.' 

Foorrgiive.

I don't think it works like that.

"Yes?"

I looked around. 

"Let's go!"

This time the smile I offered Ginny was a bit brighter. I would never have blinding smiles (think how terrible that would be for people's eyesight. I really hadn't like wearing glasses) I don't know if she noticed - I had so much experience in faking it. I hated faking things but I understood that sometimes it was better to shut up (cough Harry listen to me! cough) and plaster on a fake smile and then go back to whatever you were doing (when they left, not before) than to express your true opinions. Either way, I felt a bit better because I had other things to focus my restless mind on now.

If you got me thinking I never stopped. 

If you got me talking I never stopped.

I never stopped, full stop.

See, now I couldn't stop saying 'stop'. Well thinking actually. Would thinking or saying or something else like expressing - oh, fancy - 

Stop!

I was giving myself a headache but it was my head. Who decided it would be a good idea to let me do that to myself because honestly -

I was saying that a lot to, wasn't I? Why did we use-

Honestly-

See! I suppressed the urge to cackle gleefully. Why cackle though, why not giggle or -

HONESTLY, STOP!

Ok, ok. Am I having a sugar rush? I didn't buy anything from the trolley (I didn't fancy a jumping chocolate or some truly disgusting beans and I wasn't a huge fan of pumpkins) but I did eat quite a few raisins. Raisins probably had fructose so..

UGHHHHH!

Alright.

Engaging autopilot.

Why was it called autopilot? I suppose auto in the sense-

Whoa!

This is why we pay attention, Luna, so we don't trip over air. And I know people are looking but IGNORE! You ignore me well enough.

In my defence, the step was right after it.

It?

The - thing - I tripped over.

Don't start pouting.

* * *

**Hat**

We (Ginny and I) followed the looming giant over to the boats. 

The path was muddy and it was dark. I was distinctly reminded of a blindfolded walk following a rope during a residential. The mud never quite came out but it had been quite enjoyable. I'm sure it would have been better if it hadn't been cold that day. This was exactly the same - except there was no light and it was so so cold! I hated the cold! It was absolutely terrible! There were so many of us too - how did they expect us not to trip?

Like you did a few minutes ago, you mean.

That was different -

Yes, there's actually something to trip over here that's not yourself.

I was grouchy today - how much had I actually slept? I was generally quite good at sleeping - shame beauty sleep didn't seem to have an effect on me. Maybe I'd actually have a chance at being 'pretty'. Oh, well, I was perfectly happy to be plain - people didn't notice you that way. I mean, I liked people but not all the time and not many at once. I suppose I preferred to approach people more than the other way around. It didn't stop me wishing that for once someone would try to befriend me. That was a bit hypocritical thought because they'd probably startle me and then it would be awkward... and, yeah.

Then, I caught sight of the people. And the hat. Let's focus on the hat please. How did I even get here? Hat. Focus on the hat.

The hat had some sort of gap in it that seemed to simply be a hole. Guess it couldn't eat then. Still, it would be fun to try. But what if the hat didn't want to experiment? I could hardly force it - I couldn't bring myself to be so mean. It was a sentient being so permission first, Luna.

I sort of zoned out a bit, got a little bit lost in my thoughts. It was worth it though because I almost missed it's terrible singing voice. It was in one ear out the other. I, for the first time in along time, was glad about my abject lack of full concentration. I only caught the end when I realised McGonagall was pulling out a scroll and I'd better pay attention if I didn't want to look like an idiot.

The only attention I wanted to get (and it wasn't even wanted) was when I would undoubtedly be in teacher's pet mode - probably out of some sort of self validation because - oh, never mind. I practically jumped out of my skin when something ice-cold touched me. Who threw that snowball? Mentally riling myself up for the murder I'd never commit because I didn't want anybody staring at me, okay? Why was I so judge-y today?

Probably because you haven't talked to anyone in a while and now everything you want to say is swirling around your head.

You know, I am trying to see myself as someone and you are not helping! What happened to treat yourself as you treat other people?

Isn't it the other way around?

Not for me!

Fine, someone else.

Thank you. Who?

No idea.

Why do you sound so cheerful, you're meant to be on my side. I mean, you're me.

Are you sure?

Yes. Don't even -

Maybe I'm playing Devil's advocate.

Then where's my Angel's advocate? That doesn't even make sense.

I don't make sense. I concede.

Anyway!

Where was I?

Ah, ice cold!

Casually, I turned around, looking for the source. Well, I mean, I'd already been tuning. What can I say? My thoughts were bullets, ricocheting around for the sole purpose of giving me a headache. And then it was time to add volatile emotions in too. Stir and leave: here I was.

No jazz hands. Please, no jazz hands.

Wait- ghost!

I nearly laughed. Of course, how could I be so stupid - everyone's a little forgetful: whatever - the ghosts!

Are we ever going to get on that chair? Why is it taking so long to get through the list?

I became even more aware of the sudden ball of nerves I'd received a little while ago as a 'Welcome to Hogwarts' gift. How thoughtful.

"Lovegood, Luna"

It's no big deal, you just have to go and sit on that stool in front of hundreds of students and face them as a hat is put on you head. You have to walk at a reasonable pace and not trip over yourself. Even you can't be that clumsy. Points for the backhanded compliment.

Of course, that meant I ended up walking weirdly to the stool. I was so glad my skin didn't blush to easily because I would have been redder than a tomato. I could still feel my ears burning.

Finally, mercifully I made it to the stool and the hat was dropped on my head. Thankfully, it covered my eyes. While that might usually be a bad thing, I meant I felt somewhat shielded from the penetrating gazes of the rest of the room. It didn't mean I couldn't feel them judging me though. People always judged other people whether they knew it or not. The only difference was that some were more willing than others to have those judgements edited or changed.

The hat spoke.

It would have been an uncomfortable feeling but I knew it worked through some sort of mental connection so I tried to make myself relax. There was a weird sort of pressure in my head but it didn't hurt so either the hat was extremely skilled (which it probably was) or what I'd done had actually worked. Maybe both? 

I waited expectantly for a response because if the hat was in my head, then it probably could tell what I was thinking.

There was nothing verbal but I could feel a sort of agreeing umm... air?

I didn't know how to describe it.

I thought the hat could speak but perhaps it was uncomfortable to speak in someone's head for that someone, so in this case, me and the hat was being thoughtful. Either way, I did my best to send it some gratitude.

It had been an interesting experience, after all.

There was no way I was wrong about the amusement it seemed to radiate.

"Ravenclaw!" it yelled.

In the seconds during the clapping and McGonagall taking it off my head, I heard a "Thank you."

Heart slightly lightened, I made my way to the blue and bronze (not silver, thank you very much) table, settling for a small gap near the end.


	4. Discontent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I don't usually do these but this is a warning. Luna gets a little deep and it isn't all good. Luna is optimistic but not naive. Mentions of uncomfortable looks at minors, insinuations and possible Obliviation but nothing worse.

**Hope**

I hoped.

I always hoped. Mostly because no one else let themselves.

Hoping took a certain relinquishing of control, a vulnerability. Sometimes it was rewarding and I never felt as light, as joyous any other time. Hoping was standing at the edge of a cliff and not knowing whether you'd fall or fly. All my existence I had hoped. I tried to learn how not to, to toughen myself up against the world but I couldn't do it.

How could someone go from living to merely surviving?

So I hoped.

I hoped that people could be better, that they could accept instead of discriminate.

The thing about hope is that when it doesn't pay off, it's crushing.

I knew that already.

So, I steeled myself for the potential fallout and hoped that it would be better.

But hopes are like prayers - not always answered.

They are not always enough.

It hurt me, more than I'd like to admit every single time I had experienced hope and it had ended on another note. I hoped but it just wasn't enough.

Ravenclaw was meant to be the house of the smart, but also the wise and accepting.

People seemed to have forgotten that.

People seemed to have forgotten that houses were not the be all and end all.

At the end of the day, people were people and if I was feeling more sensitive right now, I would have been crying. Because it hurt. It hurt that people were looked down on because they hadn't been born to the right family. It hurt because children were taught wrong. That they were taught that people were below them. It hurt that even this far in the story of mankind, people still found reasons to hate.

Maybe it was easier to hate than love.

Maybe not.

I didn't know.

In the grand scheme of things, I was but another being that had memories from another incarnation. Perhaps it was not in my place to know. Perhaps I was wise enough to know. Perhaps I would know one day. Perhaps I would only think in perhaps-s. Perhapsi? Perhapses? Ok, maybe that was a bit far.

Shifting to once more stare into the wall, I let out a sigh.

Maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe not.

I could not stop thinking in maybes today, could I?

Why did I think so much? I wanted to go and learn some magic! I'd only had a few lessons so far, mostly practical ones. I was glad. Theory was a bit of a let down. When I'd browsed the book stores, there had been quite a lot of the same theory. While that was nice (as in convenient), it was always interesting to get some differing views. On the whole, though, I enjoyed classes.

But classes were over.

Trying not to deflate like a balloon, I tried to think of something else to do.

Maybe I could visit Ginny? I rather liked the redhead and maybe in time I could truly forgive her enough to trust her more. For now, I was happy with trying. Rome wasn't built in a day! Yes, that sounded like a good idea. I was going to visit her! 

If there had been anyone there to smile for, I would have beamed. As it was, I simply allowed my lips to curve upwards. I was ready to go save my friend from a creepy diary! Not that she needed saving of course. Ginny was no damsel in distress. 'Help' would be a better word because people were a social species and needed other people to fall back on.

I turned around.

I'd go visit Ginny, just as soon as I finished rewriting my essay.

Trying my best not to cry or wobble, I grabbed my spare pen. I tried not to look at the quill pen my father had work so hard on, blown to pieces on top of what had been my essay. I could cry later. First, I had to write the essay so McGonagall didn't skewer me and then, I had (wanted) to meet Ginny. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't spend any time with her?

I managed a smile, though small, because I had something else to let me hope now.

* * *

**Diaries**

It happened entirely by accident, I swear.

It sounded way too convenient, even in my mind, but honestly, I meant it.

When you literally have to argue yourself though, you have to concede it might have been somewhat subconscious. Either way, advantage to me.

I'd been scribbling away in my notepad - that held some sort of doodles, a poem or two and often a few bits of Maths because I was bored and enjoyed it when Ginny came across me. Of course, the situation ended up being profitable. 

Because I was trying to learn to be ambidextrous.

Maybe it couldn't be learned. I don't know. Didn't stop me from trying.

I only lost one poem for the cause and Ginny said it wasn't so bad so...

Stop stalling...

You know what happened, you where there. 

And? (cue raised eyebrow)

Fine.

Let's say that Ginny came to the wrong conclusions.

Somewhere, I could hear someone cackling. Then I realised it was me, in the back of my head and mercifully not out loud. I was a second away from losing all propriety and going for ti. It was so tempting... but it would only make my situation worst.

Not thinking about that now.

Positivity. Optimism because no else is going to tell you to dream.

Maybe they will. Optimism activated, clearly.

Oi, what do you mean by that-

Story now!

What are you, children?

Yes.

Anyway, Ginny sort of just confessed that her diary did the same thing. When I gave her a blank look, she told me to stop pretending. She knew mine wrote back to me too. Wasn't it so cool they did that?

Trying my absolute best not to freak out, I sat in stony silence.

"How do you know?" I whisper-shouted. Thankfully, my acting was good enough to fool the girl.

"Mine does it too!"

I glanced around nervously, "Don't say it so loud, you'll disturb the Wrackspurts!" Man, I loved being Luna Lovegood. I now had a reasonable excuse for being a little mad, shall we say.

Insane.

Ginny was off again about how mine worked.

"It only writes back sometimes, I don't know why or how to explain it."

Ginny's eyes lit up brightly.

"Maybe we can swap! So you can talk to Tom and I can talk to - What's its name?"

"Li(ke I now)ilith!" I coughed suddenly. "Lilith."

I had trouble believing this sudden turn of events. I had gone through so many thoughts on how to acquire the Horcrux but I had never imagined it would be this easy. It was a good thing I hadn't made much progress in my plans. Less effort. Interested in learning. yes. Passionate about doing work because I had to, no. And I did have to, I couldn't not help.

(Children dead because I didn't raise a finger.)

This was a beautiful opportunity and I was going to take it.

(Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber foreve-

"Ok." I held out the newly dubbed Lilith to Ginny and allowed myself a moment of celebration. I had no reason to believe it would be smooth sailing from here. But the fact that I have a Horcrux, that I can get one step closer to taking down the man who had destroyed his soul like this, who has tampered with things that shouldn't be touched, overwhelms me.

I hope Ginny doesn't notice the solitary tear that rolls down my face but she does and is quick to ask what's wrong.

"The Wrackspurts are a bit lively." I say because I'm Luna Lovegood and saying headache would make me an impostor. I am an impostor but this would be obvious. I briefly wonder whether this is some sort of impostor syndrome based drea- but I know its not. It can't be.

I take the innocuous (apparently) diary and flee before I can break down. Ginny will chalk it up to my health, I'm sure. She will trust my ~~lyingfilthypoisonouswrong~~ words and I can only allow myself to wallow in self-pity for so long. The guilt claws at my insides but eventually it's pushed back somewhere I will not have to touch until my emotion are raging and howling and burning and freezing - more than they are right now.

I could say it is for the greater good. It is for the greater good. But everything is subjective. There are so many times I wish my world wasn't so 3D, so colourful but I wouldn't be able to live with black and white. Emotions are swirls and I can't, won't make them flat and monotone. I don't know what I'm doing.

I've never known what I was doing.

I had a good life, fairly normal, never interesting but I was always the hero of my own story. I always wanted to be somebody else's.

I was never going to be Ginny's. But I could be her friend (hopefully).

* * *

**Stuck**

Have I ever stared down a diary before?

No. I always blinked too much for staring contests. Can you even have a staring contest with a diary? Obviously, I'm staring at it. But it doesn't have eyes to stare back.

That would be so creepy, can you imagine?

Ughh.

What am I meant to do with it?

If I do find a way to destroy it, Ginny would be so mad at me losing it. It would be worth it though. Now if I could only get my hands on some basilisk venom...

Could try to break into the Chamber of Secrets.

Couldn't do it without dragging Harry along though and he deserved better than having to be the hero all the time. Maybe if I told him to hiss open up at a snake and recorded it? But then it would come out and he'd be a pariah. Great!

Back to square one.

* * *

**Careful**

It took a great deal of effort not to roll my eyes after my first lesson with the ponce. And that was before I saw it. I hadn't really want to hurt him until I caught a look he sent at Astoria Greengrass. Greengrass was a little more developed in the chest than the rest of us. 

I'm sure you can see where this is going... Of course, I know, I'm you. I was trying to be dramatic. No, not the appropriate moment. Sorry, but I can't really control it.

I kept a closer eye on him after that. 

What I found made my skin crawl.

I'd never met a child predator before but that was the right word.

Astoria and I weren't particularly close and we never talked but when I started to subtly shield her from his gaze in lessons, she didn't say a thing. I was hoping she appreciated it but then I realised I'd much rather she didn't know and just thought me a Loony. Who thought that would end up working in my favour? Now I just needed a friend called Penelope so we'd be Loony and Loopy.

Actually, maybe not.

It took all I had to not to knock the man unconscious and drag him to prison. 

I didn't know whether he deserved Azkaban or not.

Wait, what if he did something to the children?

Magical children were protected in a way Muggle children were not. They had parents ready to raise hell over things like this. Muggle children didn't have the same luxury. And what if he was using Obliviation? I needed to tell my Father before he tweaked mine!

In the end I managed to imply it through a series of letters. I wasn't sure if my father picked up my hints.

(His fans are very taken with him. It seems to be mutual.)

(He smiles at Astoria a lot. I wish he smiled at me too.)

(Astoria's so pretty and I'm not. Maybe that's why.)

(Could you use him for your latest article? He's so interesting! It looks like he has many Wrackspurts but they aren't very many at all.)

There wasn't much more I could do except hope he stopped at looking. He stayed at Hogwarts so there was that at least.

It didn't ease my conscience very much but, honestly, what could I do? I wasn't going to Dumbledore - he'd read the rest of my mind and I didn't like such casual invasions of privacy. I could go to Snape but I wasn't sure how he'd react. Astoria was a Slytherin so maybe he could do something?

It was worth a try.


	5. Determination

I’ve always had some sort of aversion to authority figures.

See the idea of bowing to anyone I don't respect simply for the fact that other people I don't know respect them, doesn't sound that great to me. That sounds pretentious, even in my own head. But consider the fact that I am a people-pleaser and I treat everyone I don't know the same before I can get a read on them. Even if I don't like that read, I do act respectful like most deserve. If it happens to be a bad day and my impression of that person is changed, I will apologise. Just not quickly. What is the point of apologies if you don't mean them?

Ok, that was a sort of bad question. I am extremely experienced with having to use sweet-talk and other subtle methods to keep the peace. I am manipulative and I can't deny it. Most sentient beings are manipulative in some form or another. If you comfort someone, aren't you manipulating them to feel better? Even telling someone the blunt truth could be manipulative if you had a good idea of what they'd do.

Before I could go into the all too familiar debate of whether I was 'good' or 'bad' and get myself tied up in knots before questioning if those were the right parameters and what 'good' and 'bad' meant before concluding that trying not to hurt other people and things were 'right' and then... you: I get the point, I gathered up the stupid, blind courage that had brought me here, cast a look on either side, try not to look too furtive! and knocked on the door. Look like you're not doing anything wrong. For Astoria. For all those little children. For all those victims.

I enjoyed my moments of idealism like nothing you could imagine (actually, as I'm you...) but I seemed to be in a grumpy mood today because my next thought was enough of the mushy stuff. I need to concentrate!

The wait for him to open the door wasn't helping any.

What if he doesn't want to help? What if he already knows and can't do anything? 

My apologies, it was pessimistic mood today.

What if he doesn't know and he still can't do anything? I'm going to look so stupid, I shouldn't have come. I mean, I only have a vague suspicion... Perhaps it's not to late to turn back? But what about Astoria? I can tell him at another time...

Are you really this useless? You can't even try to help someone else? You've already damned Ginny, can you manage to fail another girl, too? Are you really that deplorable? I don't understand why people even like you! It's not like you have any friends and the only person who really cares about you is your father. But he's kind of obliged to since you're his daughter and he's a good person. I wonder what Dad would say if he knew just how you'd killed his daughter. Why do you even bother? What's the point? You'll never be 'good' or anything anywhere near it. I'm surprised that no one's caught you out on it. Oh well, it's only a matter of time before someone realises just how pathetic you are. Go on, do what you always do, go cry. You can't even sort out your problems, how do you expect to help with anyone else's?

Eyes brimming with tears and overwhelmed (shame, guilt, sadness, anger, pain, resignation), I fled the scene. Hopefully I'd not inconvenienced Snape. 

Just when I thought you could sink no longer.

He probably hadn't been in his office anyway. But what if he'd seen me? Act logically, don't cry!, it's not like he cares enough to follow you.

You're right, no one cares. It set me off again.

I could barely see as I fled but accustomed to foggy glasses, and lack of visibility from a previous life, I was able to navigate my way back.

My previous life. This was the one I'd stolen. How did I know I hadn't stolen the previous one? How could I trust myself?

Stop crying! What if someone sees you?

So? I don't care!

You will when you go back to normal.

How do you know this isn't normal? I am perfectly entitled to emotions Ms Logic-is-the-best. 

But logic doesn't hurt like this.

You're wrong!

Do you really feel that way?

Stop trying to confuse me!

You see how fallible they are?

If I let them go, who am I?

I couldn't answer that question as I sobbed my heart out in the toilet I'd managed to find myself in, trying to ignore the malicious laughter someone was having at my expense. Crying was an important coping mechanism and I hadn't had a breakdown like this since the Ginny incident. Oh no, Ginny!

I couldn't answer that question when I saw the time, realised it was past curfew and had to sprint to the Tower. I thought I had lost my shoes somewhere along the way but then I remembered that I had stashed them away because if was harder to run with the things on than with them off. I rocketed through the hallways, cursing my unfitness and plumpness. Maybe I shouldn't have turned to comfort. 

You're thinking about this now, why? - RUN!

I skidded through the hallway as my watch ticked on. I tried to resist the temptation of looking - it would only make it worse! I had to be on time! I had to! I just couldn't not be.

I nearly veered into someone and called out an apology before continuing my trek. Wait - someone?

I almost tripped by whipping around quickly. I honestly felt too tired to run much more but it would be worse if I made them chase after me. Then, they'd be more tired and therefore more annoyed and my punishment would be harsher. If I played my cards right, I could be the lost first year who lost track of time.

My eyes briefly widened as I caught sight of the Slytherin Prefect following me. I knew better to judge people by their houses but sometimes, when you were oppressed, you made yourself fit the mold people were trying to stuff you into. 

With that in my mind, defiant wasn't the best option. She had the power right now and I wasn't going to ignore that. Nor was I going to go for the crying child. Firstly, I was already uncomfortable expressing my emotions and she did have a reputation to maintain so it wasn't going to work even if she did feel sorry for me.

I chose guilty instead.

Perhaps later I'd feel guilty for manipulating her but for now, I was recovering from a breakdown. It wasn't even like it was intentional - it just happened. Well it was intentional, but only after I'd subconsciously chosen. It was difficult to explain - even to myself.

And people thought I was so innocent. If only they knew...

It wasn't even that hard to be sheepish.

Personally, I had always understood what I was feeling (even if I didn't understand why). I understood so well that it wasn't hard to bring up one aspect of the situation or of anything in general to make myself feel guilty. I didn't even need to make myself that. I was already feeling it.

I fought the valiant battle of keeping my tears in and if the Prefect noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she leaned forward, threateningly.

I didn't even know if it was threatening but it wasn't positive and anything that wasn't positive activated my fight or flight instinct. There was usually no contest - it was flight. 

I fought even harder to keep my feet locked to the ground. 

The girl assessed me and I was so glad I'd wiped my tears before leaving the loo. She stared me right in the eyes and I was worried that they were red (they were) but if they were, she wasn't saying anything. I did a heroic job of concealing my sniffles and retained my sheepish expression.

After a few tense seconds (in which I blinked numerous times), the girl leaned back. Then she turned and started to walk away.

I stood there for a few moments, silently processing.

She turned around briefly and I gave her a small nod of gratitude before defaulting to autopilot and dragging myself off to bed before someone less 'friendly' came along. The caretaker made pretty gruesome threats and I didn't like trouble. At all. I hated trouble. 

I couldn't deal with it but believe me, I tried. I preferred to just avoid it. It was so much easier. Again, I wondered why I'd chosen to interact with Harry. The boy was a trouble magnet and I was his closest confidante. A position I really didn't deserve because he deserved someone better.

Oh, be quiet, I'm fed up of you whining. You're not the only one who suffers-

Be quiet! That's just going to make it worse.

How exactly could it get worse than this?

I sniffled determinedly. I was Luna Lovegood or at least, I had to be to keep my sanity. I was loony, tired, sad and currently an emotional mess but I was used to it. I was weak and useless and overly sentimental but it taught me to understand people. I was the bendy willow that survived the storm. I was... comparing myself to a plant? Who cares? I was the only one who knew!

Other people could be bigger monsters than me so I wasn't going to let myself forgive them and not me too. If they could be redeemed, why couldn't I?

Other people suffered more. What right did I have to belittle it? ~~(but you've suffered too)~~

Harry and Ginny had been dealt a bad hand ~~(so have you)~~ so even if I could nothing else, perhaps I could ease their suffering a little. I needed to stop whining. It wasn't that bad. Why did I act like I had something to grieve? ~~(you do)~~

I was being so selfish! 

I was trying to think of others more, not spend so much time invested in myself. They needed - I needed to help them. I wasn't that important. Someone else would have helped. ~~(right now you are someone)~~

I laughed bitterly in my own head. I wasn't that important. It's not like I was cursed or anything. I wasn't a rarity of some sort. I was one of several billion people. Sure I had some extra memories but that didn't make me special. ~~(all I'd ever wanted was to be special enough for people to notice)~~

Harry had suffered more than anyone should. I was older so it was my job to protect him. Well it was a self-imposed job. I'd protect him as long as I was able. I'd try to save them. And even though I knew it was idealistic, hated the part of me that was still able to dream like that, maybe I could save them all. Yeah, right. It was going to hurt when I had to accept that this would never be reality.

I still gave myself a few moments to dream.

If I dream, who would I be?

Who am I?

I almost wished the knocker in front of me asked that so we could have a long, drawn out debate about it. What made me, me? Ahh, philosophical moment.

Why did I still want to believe that part of me so much? The one that tried to learn to fly, save the environment, managed to dream? 

When had I become so cynical? When did I lose the ability to dream? When did I let go of my persistence and realise I was never a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow in the first place? That I probably wouldn't find a way to fly before I died? 

If this was growing up, I didn't want it.

I didn't want any of it.

Growing up brought reality. And reality brought pain.

Dreams could be nightmares but there was reality to turn to.

When reality reached me, there was no dream I could hide in.

It was futile.

I absentmindedly awoke the door-knocker.

"Deep in thought I see." it observed wryly.

I liked the door-knocker - it had a sense of humour and personality that I enjoyed

"As befitting a Ravenclaw."

While I tried to conceal my embarrassment and smother the rage I felt for being another stereotype, the door-knocker smiled. It wasn't the door-knocker's fault there was a stereotype and it hadn't felt arrogant or even as it was expected. It sounded almost... teasing?

"Are you teasing me?"

Never let it be said that I wasn't a blunt person.

The door-knocker winked and the door swung open. Too tired and emotionally exhausted to question why the door-knocker had simply left it at that, I trudged to my bed, having enough presence to change and brush my teeth. 

It could wait for tomorrow.


End file.
